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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847287">One-sided Reunion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_Still_A_Robot/pseuds/Im_Still_A_Robot'>Im_Still_A_Robot</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Guilt, Hurt No Comfort, I cannot stress this enough, Light Angst, Memory Loss, No Romance, Not A Reader-Insert, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Scars, look guys don't trap your friends in mirrors, the da is agender and you cannot change my mind, tiny hurt but no comfort what so ever</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:22:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25847287</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_Still_A_Robot/pseuds/Im_Still_A_Robot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dark knew that they might be different when he finally came to get them out, but he wasn't expecting them to be like this</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No Romantic Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>29</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>One-sided Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The walk across the land was far too long. However, it was to be expected. The owner was an eccentric type, of course he needed the space. Dark looked at the mansion before him. So many bad memories tied to such a relatively small area. He shook his head, continuing silently to the front door. Taking a deep breath he paused. Beyond this door was 90 years of regrets he would have once called a friend. Once this door was opened it couldn't be closed. Straightening his back and turned the doorknob.</p><p>     The room was nearly the same as it had been left almost a century ago. Orchids framing perfect white candles lay on the table in the center of the room. The mirror on the other side seemed to watch him as he scanned the room. It probably was actually watching. Dark sighed silently, walking slowly to the mirror. He took out a cloth and wiped the dust off of the glass, carefully avoiding moving the loose pieces too much. Once he was done he stepped back. The person on the other side gaped. It took them a second but eventually, they got out a few words.</p><p>     "Who are you?"</p><p>     Somehow, that was the one thing Dark wasn't expecting. He was prepared for anger, relief, sadness, even just plain apathy, but confusion? That definitely threw a wrench into things. And it hurt more than he cared to admit. He cleared those thoughts away, there was limited time. This could still work.</p><p>     "You may call me Dark."</p><p>     Their face flashed through a few expressions, although none of them were recognition. Eventually, they shook their head. A question still showing in their eyes.</p><p>      "Why do I feel like I've met you? I have no idea who you are,” They glanced around the room “Wait- do you know why I’m here?”</p><p>    Another thing to consider later it seemed.</p><p>     "Well, I don’t have all the answers but," He pulled his face into a smile "I do have a solution to your problem." </p><p>     The person before Dark squinted at him, untrusting. Still the same person they were so long ago. He had expected them not to immediately trust him, it was the only thing really going to plan. His offer was irresistible in their situation. Never mind the fact that he did put them there.</p><p>     "I can offer you freedom." He stated like it was the simplest thing in the world.</p><p>     "If I accept, what do you want?"</p><p>     "All I ask for is a bit of your help, specifically with punishing the man responsible for all of this."</p><p>     "You mean the person who put me in here?" They spoke quickly, almost excited</p><p>     "In a way..." Dark chuckled "So what do you say?"</p><p>    They nodded quickly, "Absolutely."</p><p>    "Just place your hand on the glass and I'll do the rest"</p><p>     As they did what they were told Dark could see crack-like lines slightly lighter than their skin traveling up and down their arm and hand. More in the ever-growing pile of questions.  Then, in one deft motion, he grabbed their wrist and pulled them through the mirror. </p><p>     As soon as they crossed over the threshold a wave of air exploded from where they left. Once on the other side, they collapsed onto their back. Gasping for breath, they opened their eyes. Above them was a ceiling. Not the void. They scrambled up, and looked around at the room, running over to the open door on the other side.</p><p>      "I'm… I'm free"</p><p>      "Yes, and I've got somewhere you can go, come on."</p><p>     Not bothering to see if they were following, knowing they were, Dark walked out of the manor and followed the same path he did to get here. A car waited at the edge of the land. Far quicker and less noticeable than walking. The two of them would be quite a sight to any bystanders. A few minutes later the car was driving away with the last people from that fateful party.</p>
<hr/><p>     After setting them up in the mansion all the egos shared Dark finally moved back up to his room. It had been a long day. After he brought them back ever ego wanted to know who they were. It was the same as every time he brought a new one to the mansion but somehow they made it so much more exhausting. It’s probably guilt. Mark would have a laugh of that one, wouldn't he?</p><p>     Opening a bottle of wine, he thought about what he learned. They really didn't remember. Just like Wil. Only this time it was his fault. He took a drink straight from the bottle. If he just hadn't been so stubborn maybe they would remember. Swallowed his pride and retrieved them sooner. But maybe it's good they don't remember what he did to them. Betrayal. A feeling he understood far too well, especially from someone he thought was a friend. God, he was a hypocrite, huh? That was another drink.</p><p>     Suddenly their arm came to mind. After bringing them home he was able to see the "cracks" covered more than just their right arm. It seemed to be all over, almost like lichtenberg scars. They looked random and sharp but had no visible starting point, just everywhere. Was it from cracking the mirror? There wasn’t much else it could be. He took another long drink from the bottle, realizing it was already less than half full. Setting it down he pressed his hand to eyes. What was he going to do?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And It's done! Thank you so much for reading!<br/>I do have a few things I want to say:<br/>First, check out my tumblr @im-still-a-robot, I mostly reblog stuff but I occasionally draw! Most of my writings are just short rambling ideas so fics like this are quite rare but feel free to send me asks or messages about my art or writing!<br/>Second there are few ideas I wasn't able to fit in that I just want to leave for your consideration. Originally there were going to more references to the Orchids, including the working title "Dead Flowers Don't Remember Life" but I couldn't get them to fit. Also, if they weren't wearing a shirt you be able to see that the DA's scars look like they originate from wear they got shot.<br/>I love seeing comments from people and I try to respond to as many as I can!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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